


Tie Me Up

by ChuChuMarshmallow



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: M/M, Rope Bondage, Shut up Tobin, dragon dick, half-shifted corrin, rp-centric development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 00:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChuChuMarshmallow/pseuds/ChuChuMarshmallow
Summary: Corrin has been haunted by intrusive curiousity and finally brings it up. ( a secret santa gift for an rp group! )





	Tie Me Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pmarques](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pmarques/gifts).



> this relationship in particular is based on a development in our fire emblem rp group, and thus references things specific to that development. other than that, the only particular headcanon to note is 'corrin loses control with his shifting the more he gets worked up', pretty much

"I wish you could be all tied up with _me_ instead." 

Corrin's busy hands pause in their bustling at the sigh Niles breathes, petulant and unhappy with this turn of events. Niles has been far from quiet with his thoughts; his displeasure in having Corrin pulled away by Kiran's orders just as Niles himself _finally_ escapes his own battlefield duties is nothing but a constant reminder in the way he taps an arrowhead against the table, drawing circular patterns that Corrin only catches by ear. A guilt washes over him, though he knows it's hardly his own fault. 

And yet despite everything, it's not _guilt_ that has Corrin stumbling over his thoughts and struggling to put together a reassurance that he'll be back before Niles even knows it. No, it's the words that slip from the former thief's tongue, stirring up a latent curiousity that Corrin has yet to face. Heat begins crawling under his skin, working up to his ears. 

"...Can I be? Tied up, I mean." 

He feels as though he could sink right into the earth's embrace and cease to exist right then and there, and yet he chances a glance up at Niles once he realizes the idle drawing on the table has finally stopped. Nerves bring Corrin's fingers together in anxious embarrassment as Niles blinks at him, head tilted and telling of the surprise that Corrin ever so rarely sees on the other man's face. Was it strange—was it _too_ strange? Had Niles always meant something else, something other than the visions that creep into the back of Corrin's mind at night, taunting and tempting him with ideas of rope and silk and Niles's hands keeping him in place? His ears burn with the shame of it, but he doesn't look away from Niles's stare, despite everything. 

"Come again?" Niles prods, and Corrin's tangled tongue comes loose. 

"It's just that... " He can feel how warm his face is as he finally breaks eye contact, instead darting around and looking at random points in the room. "You've said things like that before, and I've heard it from others, too." He catches Niles's brow raise at 'others', but he pays little mind to it. "I've always wondered what it'd be like to, um... I-I dunno, I thought that maybe... if it's you, then I... " 

His shoddy resolve falters there, his voice trailing off as he fidgets with the armor he's still putting on. It takes a while (or at least what _feels_ like a while) before Niles finally speaks once more. 

"Corrin, look at me." 

Tensing up in nervous anticipation of rejection and yet still lacking hesitation, Corrin does, meeting Niles's searching look. As he bites his lip, Niles sighs, though the sound is hardly unpleasant. 

"You know I can't deny a look like that... it stirs me up too much." 

Corrin's face all but burns as Niles adjusts his position, crossing his legs and leaning forward into his palm, not longer a picture of a sour mood. A shine of optimism cuts through his gaze, and Corrin finds some part of him feels oddly weak, being caught under it—but in a good way. A really, _really_ good way. 

"But if that's what you want, love, I can _certainly_ arrange it." The agreement comes as a shock to Corrin's system, his eyes widening and anxiousness giving way under the weight of excitement. His heart still drums a bit quicker than it should, but could he really be blamed? Niles continues, standing up and drawing closer, until he's able to reach out and cup Corrin's cheek; "Think about it while you're away. I'll be sure to have everything prepared if you still wish to go through with this, but should you have any doubts... You let me know right away. Alright?" 

A shudder rolls down Corrin's back as he leans into Niles's palm, closing his eyes for just a brief moment as he nods; in turn, Niles's thumb strokes light patterns along his cheek. "I will. I promise." 

Niles hums in approval before bringing his lips down to Corrin's own in a soft, chaste kiss—just long enough that Corrin nearly melts. "Good, good... I'll be waiting, then." 

He hasn't even left to attend his mission yet and yet already Corrin's eager to return to this, to give Niles the okay and to finally sate the curiousity that storms in his blood. Pushing it all down, he smiles. 

"I'll come back soon." 

* * *

It stays on his mind like a persistent bruise that he can't stop poking. 

Admittedly, he's not doing a very good job in not entertaining the thoughts whenever they arise; it's easy enough to ignore in the midst of battle, but at the slightest moment of downtime, they come creeping up once more, vicious and inescapable. More than once, he catches himself staring a bit too long at the straps some others wear, wondering what it'd feel like if those strips of leather would feel like on his wrists, or keeping his arms together. Tobin catches his stare once, and it's all Corrin can do to flounder and say the first thing to come to mind as excuse. 

"T-There was something on your shirt! ...I think." 

He feels bad for just how easily Tobin falls for it, having no reason to distrust Corrin's words, but the guilt-laden amusement that comes out of Tobin's overblown reaction does well to nudge his thoughts in a different direction for a while—until they retire for camp a few hours, at least. 

(When night comes, though, all bets are off.) 

Never before has Corrin felt so much regret in having to share his tent with someone else. Tobin's not a bad guy whatsoever, but it's really hard to sleep so close to someone when _certain thoughts_ plaguing him every time he lies down and closes his eyes. 

What will Niles use? Corrin's fingers curl against the fabric of his cape, thinking on the texture of it. Would ropes be too much? What about leather? Maybe just cloth? If only he'd thought to ask these questions before leaving, maybe he wouldn't be so haunted by them here and now. 

Maybe he wouldn't be _half-hard,_ interest stirring in his loins as he fantasizes about Niles's grin as he ties him down to the bed. 

Corrin swallows, eyes darting over towards Tobin for a quick moment before he curls up against his bedroll, drawing the thin blanket over his shoulders. Soon. Soon, and he'll have all his thoughts answered. He just has to make it through then. 

(Sometime before the morning comes, Tobin's shifting wakes Corrin up; coincidentally, it alerts the dragon prince to the abnormal weight between his legs. Corrin nearly screams in shame, burying his face in his hands as he curls into himself, wishing for all the world that he could just be sent back to his room in the castle already.) 

* * *

The day couldn't come fast enough. Niles is waiting for him at the castle's receiving area, and it takes everything in Corrin's power to not run to him and make a fool of himself (that said, his walk is a bit brisker than the others, still). Niles greets him by placing his hands on Corrin's waist, a smile on his lips; before he can so much as open his mouth to say a word, Corrin blurts out: " _Yes_." 

Niles blinks, but a lopsided smirk grows nonetheless, fondness sparkling in his eye. 

"Eager, I see. Alright, then—let's get you out of that armor, hm...?" 

_Yes, please_ —Corrin's sense is just loud enough that he still remembers where they _are_ and holds his tongue, but he nods quickly all the same, his heart beating just a bit too fast. 

Eager? Oh, if only Niles _knew_. 

"I couldn't stop thinking about it," Corrin admits once they're close enough to their room. Well, Niles knows _now_ , doesn't he? 

"Oh?" Niles voice is an amused yet low hum, as if the idea of that has some sort of appeal. "What kind of things were you thinking?" 

Corrin nearly stumbles in his steps. "W-Well, I um..." 

"Shh—tell me later," Niles says. For a few moments, Corrin's brows draw in confusion. Why ask if he wanted to hear it later? Was there something wrong? For all Corrin can tell, everything seemed fine; they've reached their room, there's no obligations that Corrin knows of to distract them, so why...? 

His answer comes once he steps over the threshold; Niles is something like a shadow as he slips in beside him, quick and smooth, startling Corrin just long enough that he barely realizes what's happening when Niles pushes him back to the door, closing it with the weight of Corrin's body. 

"Niles, wha—" 

His words are silenced by Niles's lips, his tongue, his hands reaching up to tangle in Corrin's hair; his mind goes blank with the suddenness, a soft sound of surprise muffled in the ambush kiss. Niles hardly gives him room to allow his head to stop spinning, instead all but leaving Corrin no choice but to scramble to keep up. His hands rest on Niles's waist as he meets that experienced tongue with his own, shy and still unused to the torrent that Niles can sometimes be. Was it like this in the world where they're _really_ married? This fire that leaves him breathless and panting when Niles pulls away—is that other him greeted just like this, with the same low whisper that Niles leaves against his ear?  
  
"I missed you..." 

Corrin's heart stutters, a part of him melting at the sheer heat in Niles's tone. It sends warmth through _him_ in turn, spreading through his body in even, steady pulses. Niles's lips curl upwards before they meet Corrin's again, a bit less of a rush but still more than full of all the affection that Niles has ever shown him. Is he lucky, to have this? _Should_ he have this, knowing that he's still a bit confused, still a little lost, still— 

"Do you still want this, Corrin?" Niles asks, breaking the spiraling train of thought in Corrin's mind. "If you're unsure..." 

He wants this. He wants it so much that he can't stop thinking, that it crushes all his self-focused concerns into dust and reminds him why he's here, what they're doing—it renews his purpose in the grip he has on Niles's body. 

"Yes," he breathes, nothing but sure. "I want you to tie me up, Niles. I keep thinking about it, I keep thinking about _you_ , I can't stop it, I—" 

He's cut off by another kiss and the feeling of Niles's hand running down his side. Corrin shudders, breathing in sharply once Niles pulls away. 

"Then I won't keep you waiting." 

Minutes fly by in a blur, anticipation and longing muting the world around them. Corrin can't even pay mind to how fast he rids himself of his armor, his clothes; his mind is caught in a whirlwind and it leaves him fumbling. He chances a glance at Niles, catching the hints of a stretch of rope in his grasp. Corrin's heart races, all those daydreams coming back to him in a rush. For it to be right in front of him, a reality right within his grasp—it's hard to reconcile so easily, and he can't help but wonder if it seems too weird for him to start getting hard before anything has even started. 

Niles seems pleased at least, though Corrin's face warms at the approving (or admiring?) looks that Niles gives him. Thankfully, it's not pointed out (though it may as well be, with how long Niles's gaze lingers), but Corrin moves his hand over his lap nonetheless. 

That shyness doesn't last long—rather, it's forced from him as Niles crosses his wrists together, bringing the rope around them in quick loops that Corrin can't quite keep up with. Try as he might to follow the movements, it hardly makes sense to his novice mind; all he can admire is the end work, the clasp around him being nothing short of strong and sturdy—he tests them, wriggling and pulling, but they don't budge. 

This is it. He shivers in anticipation as his heart flutters in his chest; he can't take his eyes off the rope, a rough contrast against the smoothness of his skin. Already, he can feel his blood starting to rush—but wait, is that a good thing? 

"Um..." A flush crawls up his neck and to his cheeks, reddening his face; Niles pauses from fiddling with another stretch of rope just to look at him in question. 

"Is it too tight?" 

"No, no—it's..." Perfect, as far as Corrin's concerned. "It's not that, it's... Is this alright... ? I-I mean... what if I... _you know_ , right in the middle of it... ?" 

A thoughtful silence falls over them as Niles's expression takes on that of contemplation. Corrin, in all of his embarrassment, can't help but fidget in place. 

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Niles says, and Corrin holds back the protests on his tongue, allowing the former thief to continue. "If you want me to stop, say the name of one of your siblings." 

Corrin gawks. "Wha—?! But I don't want to even _think_ about—!" 

"That's the point," Niles hums, all too casually pulling Corrin's wrists up and over his head by tugging on the trail of rope left; as his hands settle behind his head, Corrin strains to listen to what Niles is doing with the other end of the rope. "If at any point, you feel something's off, you say one of their names. Promise?" 

Corrin bites his lip; Niles's eye narrows. 

"I promise," Corrin relents, squirming slightly against the chair. A small, pleased smile grows on Niles's face. 

"Good boy," he purrs, cupping Corrin's cheek; the praise sends a shiver down Corrin's spine, but he hardly understands _why—_ it haunts and clouds his thoughts as Niles brings more rope around him, binding his thighs and ankles to the each side of the borrowed chair, checking in each time to ensure Corrin's comfort. In moments that seem far too long and yet much too quick, Corrin finds himself fully unable to move. 

He's gotten fully hard in the process. 

His elbows are pointed upwards, his arms incapable of moving elsewhere; the tail end of the rope that keeps his wrists together must be tied off somewhere else, to keep such a taut line. Even his torso is kept firmly in place, wound around his chest and the chair alike. And yet nothing feels _too_ uncomfortable—it's all just enough so that Corrin understands his situation, but not enough that he can't find blood rushing to his loins, still. 

He's all but panting by the time Niles pulls away, admiring his handiwork. 

"Is this what you've wanted?" Niles asks; Corrin's answer is a breathy sound, somehow a touch dreamlike. 

"Yes..." 

"Good," Niles all but purrs as he comes forward, ghosting a hand along Corrin's thigh until settling on his hip; Corrin shudders, and it runs down the length of his body. "Because now's when the _real_ fun begins." 

Corrin doesn't have to ask what Niles means. Soon enough, the man's lips are on him, his tongue tracing along the sloped planes of Corrin's collarbone, trailing up to his throat, his jaw. Already Corrin's so weak, with eyes closed and soft, needy sounds shamefully spilling from the back of his throat. It's so easy to see that Niles knows what he's doing and how to do it; he sucks along particular points that make Corrin tilt his head back, baring more skin for Niles to explore, as though he weren't so utterly exposed before him already. A hiss pulls through his teeth as Niles's own catch the soft space between his shoulder blade and neck between them, biting in a way not overly harsh and yet certainly not gentle enough to be just a nip. 

Corrin's cock throbs, stiffened to its max, and Corrin once more realizes how limited in movement he is when he can't manage to lift his hips to seek friction. A soft whine leaves him, but Niles only laughs, a low and somehow sultry sound. 

"Patience, love," he breathes against Corrin's ear before his teeth catch onto it, too; Corrin wonders how he's meant to be patient when already, he feels so _much_. 

Slowly—torturously so, in Corrin's heated opinion—Niles makes his way down Corrin's body, sparing no amount of attention. Kisses nearly possessive lay claim to his chest, trailing down his stomach; Corrin's breath picks up, hitching in excitement, for he knows the path that Niles takes and where it leads. But it's a ruse, nothing more than a tease—Niles avoids Corrin's stiffened and flushed length, instead swerving to his inner thigh and nibbling. 

Corrin swears there's a smirk on the man's face when Corrin tries to squirm, only to be forcefully kept still. 

" _Niles!_ " Corrin screws his eyes shut, throwing his head back in frustration. To be teased like this... perhaps he should've seen it coming, having gleaned enough of Niles's mannerisms to know his propensity for such. And considering how Corrin is all but helpless by Niles's hand like this, only capable of whimpering and whining and pulling against his bonds—Corrin's never felt this kind of frustration in conjunction with pure, satisfying _heat_ coursing through his veins. It's a dizzying conflict of pleasure and the denial of such; and, as Niles reminds him in a whisper against his skin, nothing's truly _begin_ yet. 

"Niles, _please_ ," Is he begging, already? He can hardly believe it himself, and yet... "This is really..." 

"Are you ready to call for your family?" Niles hums; he doesn't stop lathering Corrin's skin in affection. 

Corrin blinks, then shakes his head insistently. No, he doesn't want that—what he wants is... 

"Niles..." His voice must hit a special kind of sound, for Niles pauses almost languidly to look up at the flushed masterpiece that Corrin's sure to be by now. He feels warm, _too warm_ , and he bites his lip as he looks down at Niles, crouched between his legs and yet still somehow managing to avoid all that Corrin _wants_. "Please... Touch me _really,_ Niles." 

"Is that not what I've been doing~?" Niles grins and Corrin groans. 

"A-Are you really gonna make me say it?" 

His answer comes in the form of an expectant gaze; Corrin's face burns, but if Niles is simply left to his devices... 

"I-I want you to... " Stars above, it's so hard to form the words and force them into reality; hell, he's only ever heard _others_ say such things in passing, rowdy and flustering in the downtimes of the barracks—and far, _far_ out of Corrin's league. He closes his eyes, swallowing back shame as he instinctively squirms and curls his fingers against the rope. "M-My... P-Please touch my cock, Niles." 

He squeaks the plea so pitifully that he fears it wasn't heard at all—given the stretch of silence that follows, he really, _really_ isn't sure if it was. A groan of dismay comes forth; saying it _once_ was already so difficult, and he very well thinks he might implode in embarrassment, but to do so _again_ would be— 

A touch against the base of his shaft; an inhale as sharp as a blade cuts through Corrin's thoughts, even though he makes the sound himself. His eyes snap open as he looks down at Niles. 

Niles is still smirking, holding Corrin's eyes as he hadn't looked away for a second, even when Corrin himself had. Just like that, Niles leans forward, pulls closer, his lips brushing against the hardened member in his grasp, and says, "As you wish, love" before rolling his tongue along the trail of precum that beads at the head. 

The moan Corrin rewards is too loud, too telling, and yet he can't find a thought to spare towards feeling ashamed of it. Even less so when Niles licks down the length of his shaft—and far less that when he takes it into his _mouth_. 

Corrin's breaths picks up, catching on each hitch; Niles doesn't let up, lips fitted around him almost expertly. His tongue toys with the head, flicking against the slit, sliding down the shaft as if aiming to caress every exposed inch of flesh that Corrin has to offer. Corrin can't keep his eyes open, can't keep his toes from curling or his breath from coming out in hot, heavy sighs as Niles bobs his head, taking him deep into his mouth, until his slight breaths brush against dark curls. 

Something sparks in Corrin's veins, a familiar and telling feeling that Corrin can only associate with a sense of panic. It's clear in the tone of his voice as he pants, "N-Ni—Takumi! _Takumi!"_

In a flash, Niles pulls away from his task, his hands placed lightly on Corrin's thighs, completely relinquishing contact as he studies Corrin's twisted expression in concern. 

"Corrin...? What's—" 

He needs no verbal answer; he gets a very clear one in the way Corrin's cock pulses, growing and shifting into something far less human and much _bigger_ than just moments before. It's unmistakable, what that curved shaft signifies—and even less so when a tail sprouts from behind him, thumping against the floor, pressed between the chair's wooden beams; sweat pearls along Corrin's brow as he bites his lip, unable to meet Niles's gaze. 

"I-It'll go away," he assures, almost floundering, stumbling over his words. "I-I've been getting better at controlling just it, s-so you don't have to, um..." 

Unfazed in every sense of the word, Niles responds with a simple question: "Do you still want me to stop?"  


Corrin flusters, "W-Well, not really, but until this goes away, then—N-Niles?!" 

Corrin's voice rises embarrassingly in pitch as he squeaks, eyes wide as he watches Niles resume his previous position, his mouth on Corrin's cock despite the clear strangeness of it. And yet Corrin's protests hold no weight, not with the whimpers of pleasure that come along with it. 

"W-Wait, Niles—Y-You shouldn't..." 

And yet he has no conviction in the sound; all his honesty pours into the long and low moans that rumble in his chest as Niles continues in his ministrations. It's different from before in so many ways: Niles has two hands gripping him now, and he can't take but so much into his mouth at once—a far cry from the prior display. He licks more than sucks, swirling his tongue inside his mouth and against smooth, strangely slick flesh instead of trying to work the mass deeper. As if Niles is all too familiar with this, too, he carries on; if it didn't feel so _good_ , enough so that Corrin's thoughts blank out in favor of a pleasurable fog, perhaps he would ask more questions. 

_How... How is he so good with his mouth?_

Minutes tick by and yet Corrin can't keep track of the passing time at all, lost in the sensations that Niles provides him. It's a first in so many ways, and somehow that only feeds into the fire pumping steadily in Corrin's veins— _oh_ how he wants to reach forward and curl his fingers in Niles's hair, or to even so much as arch forwards, and yet the ropes hold tight, still as unyielding as before even in the face of his straining muscles. 

Niles's tongue dips into the tip of the triangular head, prodding, and Corrin's hips jerk, a strangled sort of cry on his lips as a thick fluid builds up and leaks over, escaping past even Niles's expert tongue and instead spilling down the side of his length, a viscous white against deep blue. Niles drags a finger through it as Corrin pants softly, and there's a flustered protest that can only die on Corrin's tongue when that finger slips into Niles's mouth, a sultry motion that Niles seems way too pleased with himself by. It feels impossible—and so very _dirty_ to find his cock twitching at the sight, almost as if approving. Almost as if it... 

He's still hard. Instead of lessening any, Corrin's curved draconic cock not only stands proud, but all but pulls _more_ heat to it, throbbing as if not slickened with saliva and cum—as if all the work Niles had done hadn't fazed Corrin at all. That familiar sense of guilt begins to simmer within Corrin's chest; it's not as though he hadn't _enjoyed_ it, and yet... 

"I'm sorry, Niles," he ends up muttering, unable to look up as he bites at his lip. "It's still like this even though I've already... I-It's fine if you're tired, or you want to stop, or—" 

" _Stop?_ " The sound of the single word draws Corrin's attention up; his eyes widen as he takes in the sight of Niles himself, pants discarded and his own length standing hard. Corrin shudders in the face of the sensation that shoots straight to his own hardness, twitching in further excitement. "Oh, love—we're still getting started." 

So many words bounce around in Corrin's head, and yet none of them manage to form on his tongue at that. His stare is centered on Niles as he saunters closer, until Corrin's all but looking up at him, that same finger tilting his head back. Niles swings a leg around to the other side of Corrin's hip, straddling him; his ass presses back against Corrin's cock, the heat of flesh drawing a sharp gasp from the back of Corrin's throat. It's only a half-aware thought that has him murmur; "Wait, Niles... it's too big, you can't..." 

The smirk Niles gives shoots lightning into Corrin's veins; the sensation doesn't stop as Niles positions his hips and lowers himself down, easing himself down on the mass that makes up that inhuman length. Corrin's breath comes out in a low, guttural moan, eyes wide and darkened with a lust that threatens to consume every thought Corrin's ever had in its fire. And yet one remains ever so loud. 

_He... prepared himself for this already?!_

Niles doesn't take him to the hilt, but it's more than enough to catch Corrin in a torrent of heat all the same, only furthered by the pleased sound that Niles makes in turn. It's one thing to feel so good, but Niles, too—Niles is enjoying himself far more than Corrin would have anticipated, though this is hardly the first time they've been together like this. Well, even _then_ , Niles hasn't done anything like _this_ before, not here with him; is it such a wonder that Corrin's mind would be blown by it? 

"Just like I remember," Niles hums. Corrin's so close to asking what he means by that (despite already _knowing_ ), but Niles's hips move, rolling against him and Corrin forgets what words are. 

It's a slow and steady buildup, direction lead by Niles and Niles alone—despite his restraints, Corrin still instinctively attempts to thrust upwards, only to be kept pinned down by weight and rope. Niles licks the whines from Corrin's lips, brushes his thumb across the pale cheek of his husband; Corrin can't even tell when it is that Niles cuts the rope keeping his arms in place, and it startles him out of a drunken reverie to find himself allowed even this slight bit of movement. 

Niles provides no explanations, only tugging forward on the remaining rope that keeps Corrin's wrists still bound, pulling them until Corrin's arms hang loosely around Niles's neck. Even this amount of touch is so much _different_ than being allowed hardly any at all—Corrin's heart beats in a flutter that matches the rock of Niles's hips, but his eyes can't manage to leave Niles's near-sloppy grin. 

"N-Niles... " 

The heated whimper must do _something_ to trigger a change; Niles kisses him in a way filthy enough that Corrin nearly feels shameful, taking Corrin's tongue between his lips, biting at the swollen flesh of Corrin's own. His pace grows fervent, matching the way Corrin pants and chants his name, as if Corrin's voice is a drug that urges him on more and more. And Niles, too, can hardly stay close to _quiet_ when he's bouncing himself on all of Corrin that he can take. 

"That good, huh?" Niles nearly purrs in amusement; Corrin can hardly understand the words, but answers in something like a distorted growl, his tail smacking against the ground as if excited. 

Niles kisses him again, his tongue running along fangs. He's used to this, too—this simple tell of Corrin's state, where he's fallen so far that his shifting spreads to this state. It's a signal, Niles has learned, and in response to that signal, Niles takes his own cock in hand, pumping it as he moves with a more earnest intent. His release is all but creeping on him, taunting the back of his mind with a fiery prickle along his skin, a coiled tightness low in his stomach. Corrin's close too, all too obvious in how he pulls Niles close with the little leeway he has; it's a cute little quirk that Niles adores. 

"Come on, love," he hums, breathy and pitched low against Corrin's ear. "Give me all you've got." 

Corrin throws his head back and Niles latches a bite onto that bared throat. It's then that Corrin jerks harshly against his bonds with a half-cry, spilling himself; Niles rides him through it, stroking and squeezing his own cock until he follows suit. The white ropes of his cum is nothing in comparison to the sheer amount that Corrin fills him with, but that's the fun part in taking Corrin like this, he finds. 

The cleanup is questionable, but, well... that will come later. 

For now, Niles breathes steadily, his unsoiled hand stroking Corrin's face as the prince comes down from the high he'd climbed to. His tail shrinks, pupils filling back to their norm instead of remaining as the narrow, reptilian slits that they'd become; his cock, too, slowly begins to lessen in more ways that one, and Niles pulls himself out of Corrin's lap, far more steady on his feet than Corrin seems while sitting down. 

His knife makes quick work of the rope, and what it doesn't release, Niles's hands pull away instead. Despite being freed, Corrin doesn't make any effort to move from his seat, eyes on the ceiling as he pants, blinking as if trying to keep his focus. 

He doesn't have much longer now, then. 

"Come on, now," Niles nudges, tone gentle as he takes Corrin's wrists into his grasp, pulling Corrin to his feet and leading him to their bed. Corrin flops onto it as if weighed down by something invisible, and Niles can't help but chuckle quietly at how affected his husband always seems after a round. 

Well, at least _this_ version of his husband; the one Niles has left back home can manage at least three rounds before he ends up like this. 

Still, it's no less endearing, and it fills him with no shortage of love. Niles rubs idly at Corrin's wrist with one hand as the other cups Corrin's face, planting a soft, sweet kiss to the lips he'd been biting and suckling on just a few moments ago. His skin is still buzzing, his mind all but energized, but Corrin's eyes struggle to so much as stay open. 

"Sleep," Niles insists, bringing Corrin's hand to his lips and giving another kiss to his knuckles. "You don't have to worry about a thing." 

Blissed and content, Corrin mumbles something in response that's almost inaudible. 

"I think I love you." 

Niles pauses, blinking as he stares; Corrin's eyes are closed and his breathing deepens before a response manages to form in Niles's thoughts. He can't help but allow himself the fond smile that curls on his lips. As he strokes the side of Corrin's face with the back of his hand, he whispers: 

"I love you too. More than anything." 


End file.
